A busy, busy week with lots of assessments, of which many were alcohol problems. So I am now relaxing with a pint of Batemans XXXB in front of me.
Mmmm....that's nice.
It's a strange mixture of feelings awakened in oneself during these assessments because there is little to be done until the person decides to tackle the booze. It is particularly difficult when the person in front of you is unlikely to survive the next six months because of liver failure but they continue to drink. The family want you to admit them/ persuade the specialists to transplant the damaged liver/ change the situation with magical words. The sad thing is that the person has usually had umpteen chances to change their life but the addiction is central to their life and takes precedence over everything else.
An example is that of my sitting beside a woman who vomited copiously into a bucket, wiped her mouth and then swigged from a bottle of cheap whisky. She was naked apart from a blanket and her young children fended for themselves in the house. Another example is that of the professional man, well thought of in his community, who secretly hid the two bottles of wine and several large malt whiskies he consumed each evening from everyone. He came to my attention after being arrested for drink driving and during the night had the 'screaming abdabs' as the custody sergeant told myself and the doctor. The woman agreed to an admission into hospital to help her; the man denied having a drink problem and threatened to sue us and the police. He's dead now, the booze destroyed his heart amongst other things. The woman lapsed several more times but went on to stay clean and look after herself and her kids. Not all alcoholics live in cardboard boxes and drink in your local park. But many of them eventually end up there if the morgue hasn't claimed them first. Having said all of that I will go on to enjoy my beer this evening. Happily I cannot drink too much and know my limits. Twenty odd years ago there were times when I did over indulge but the hangovers and the desire to enjoy more out of life rather than getting pissed up all the time kept me on the straight and narrow. But amongst the strange feelings awakened in me are the memories of friends and family whose lives were and are being destroyed by alcohol.
What are the answers...fuck knows? Putting up the price to stop binge drinking, etc...ain't going to work. It raises extra money in taxes for the govt. and shows how they are taking steps to tackle the problem. Nope. Prohibition in the States, punitive taxes in Scandinavia and lectures from government suits who only know the reality of most ordinary people via the filter of sanitised suitable TV and radio programmes (i.e. not at all)is not the answer.
Anyway, I'm going to play backgammon and listen to Genesis whilst I enjoy my beer.
TTFN.
Mmmm....that's nice.
It's a strange mixture of feelings awakened in oneself during these assessments because there is little to be done until the person decides to tackle the booze. It is particularly difficult when the person in front of you is unlikely to survive the next six months because of liver failure but they continue to drink. The family want you to admit them/ persuade the specialists to transplant the damaged liver/ change the situation with magical words. The sad thing is that the person has usually had umpteen chances to change their life but the addiction is central to their life and takes precedence over everything else.
An example is that of my sitting beside a woman who vomited copiously into a bucket, wiped her mouth and then swigged from a bottle of cheap whisky. She was naked apart from a blanket and her young children fended for themselves in the house. Another example is that of the professional man, well thought of in his community, who secretly hid the two bottles of wine and several large malt whiskies he consumed each evening from everyone. He came to my attention after being arrested for drink driving and during the night had the 'screaming abdabs' as the custody sergeant told myself and the doctor. The woman agreed to an admission into hospital to help her; the man denied having a drink problem and threatened to sue us and the police. He's dead now, the booze destroyed his heart amongst other things. The woman lapsed several more times but went on to stay clean and look after herself and her kids. Not all alcoholics live in cardboard boxes and drink in your local park. But many of them eventually end up there if the morgue hasn't claimed them first. Having said all of that I will go on to enjoy my beer this evening. Happily I cannot drink too much and know my limits. Twenty odd years ago there were times when I did over indulge but the hangovers and the desire to enjoy more out of life rather than getting pissed up all the time kept me on the straight and narrow. But amongst the strange feelings awakened in me are the memories of friends and family whose lives were and are being destroyed by alcohol.
What are the answers...fuck knows? Putting up the price to stop binge drinking, etc...ain't going to work. It raises extra money in taxes for the govt. and shows how they are taking steps to tackle the problem. Nope. Prohibition in the States, punitive taxes in Scandinavia and lectures from government suits who only know the reality of most ordinary people via the filter of sanitised suitable TV and radio programmes (i.e. not at all)is not the answer.
Anyway, I'm going to play backgammon and listen to Genesis whilst I enjoy my beer.
TTFN.
posted by delcatto at 8:42 pm
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